Is Ghadafi Really Dead? Geraldo Chimera's Journey to the Truth

October 22, 2011. Misrata, Libya. With little time on my hands, I flagged down a taxi, begging a ride from the Misrata airport to where Ghadafi's body allegedly rested.

It was time to "pull a MacGyver." I had the cab drop me several blocks from the Misrata Meat Market. Racing down a dusty neighborhood alley, I ripped a burka from a clothesline. A roiling, angry knot of children appeared, but were quickly won over by my charm, whiskey, and cigarettes. I threw the burka on, and chose Ahmed, a cheerful if stupid nine year old, to pose as my 'grandson.' He cheerfully agreed, noting that my jutting mustache resembled his grandmother's.

I had what I needed to enter the market. How I was going to confirm whether the body was Ghadafi's? Pictures would not be sufficient. A swab or skin sample would be definitive, but the fragility of the sample may not survive the trip to the States. A stool sample! It would be durable enough, and would be oozing with DNA. I would be collecting valuable nuggets of information - on any diseases he carried, any medicines he was taking, and the contents of his last meal. But, how to get it?

I combed the aisles of the market, looking for items to use in the extraction. A turkey baster? A serving spoon? A simple drinking straw? No, I needed a tool that would get me volume - I wanted to 'share' this success with my peers in the journalistic community - and this payload would be worth its weight in gold!

An ice cream scoop - how appropriate! I could enter the walk-in and really 'dig in', to the sweet and cool confirmation of Ghadafi's death.

But, where to hide the goods once I had them? Ahmed, sparked with inspiration, handed me a fudgcicle box. I opted for sausage casings - more effective in containing the substance and smell. And if need be, it would be quicker and easier to swallow the evidence!

I sent Ahmed outside for the final part of our plan. Just as I entered the cooler I texted my final instructions. Within seconds the generator had been shut down, throwing the cooler into darkness. The moment of truth had arrived. Armed only with my wits, goggles and scoop, I proceeded to probe this deep, dark mystery!

Minutes later I was back on the street, with smile of victory crossing my covered face, a bit of a mess on my hands, and a string of 'fresh sausages.' I always knew that Cooking with Mario would come in handy!

Now I am back in the states, awaiting definitive results of the testing. Was this really Ghadafi, or a double? What other secrets will the tests reveal? And, what can I charge per gram? To learn the truth, watch my Halloween special, Opening Ghadafi's Vault. And folks, this one ain't empty!